


Live and Let Live

by Iaintnosidekick



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Banter, Bar Room Brawl, Blood and Violence, CIA, Cold War, DarhkAtom, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gun Violence, He's American, I promise its mostly awkward situations and banter, I'll warn you of escalation in violence before that chapter, KGB, Knife Violence, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, References to Drugs, She's Soviet, Spies & Secret Agents, Trapped In A Closet, its the multiple time they run into each other and the one time its on perpose trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-10-25 15:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20726540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iaintnosidekick/pseuds/Iaintnosidekick
Summary: Or... "Five Times Two Spies Accidently Ran into Each Other and One Time it was on Purpose"Ray never set out to be a spy. Technically, he still wasn’t a real one. He was an intelligence asset who had been cleared for fieldwork in cases that required advanced technical prowess. Which, when translated, meant he was only brought along when the mission needed someone that could talk science.





	1. The Man Who Knew Nothing

Ray never set out to be a spy. Technically, he still wasn’t a real one. He was an intelligence asset who had been cleared for fieldwork in cases that required advanced technical prowess. Which, when translated, meant he was only brought along when the mission needed someone that could talk science. He was primarily a head of technology in the CIA’s gadgetry division. He’d been the proud mind behind such important mechanisms as the camera pin, the focused laser disruptor, and the miniaturized voice recorder. In his technical work, Ray was considered to be one of the US’s most important resources. But in the field, he’d be lucky to not be considered a liability. 

That night, he was supposed to be posing as the date of Sara Lance. The CIA had put her in touch with him after her investigation into a Soviet company had led her to one of their ex-employees. He’d been fired as an alleged whistleblower and fled the iron curtain with a packet of information Sara was incredibly interested in. Unfortunately, she’d only been able to contact the doctor by posing as an American scientist looking to recruit him for his works in aeronautics. And so, the CIA had sent her Ray, the nerdiest smooth-talker in the whole agency.

They’d met up only hours before in a sketchy hotel to debrief on the situation. She’d tossed him a tux and told him to get dressed as she went over the details. Sara was a very no-nonsense kind of woman, but she was much more understanding of his minimal skill set than some of the other agents he’d teamed up with. Sara, for one, actually made an effort to make sure he knew the plan and assured him she’d be there if anything went south. It was kind of nice to be paired with someone that Ray didn’t feel would leave him to the wolves if it meant completing the mission. But having an expert assassin on his side didn’t mean the job wasn’t going to be any less dangerous.

Sara had secured them invitations to a socialite party in Paris, and at the door, she introduced themselves as Camille Martín and Robert Mansfield. She had strutted into the ballroom in her fashionable French cocktail dress practically dragging Ray behind her like some kind of art piece. Instead of keeping to themselves as Ray would have preferred, Sara made a point to go up to random groups of party-goers and mingle with them for as long as they would have her. His French was a bit rough, but he knew she was introducing him as the new boy-toy she’d picked up at university. The guest would laugh and he would pull out his best smile before Sara grabbed their attention again.

Together, they bounced around the room for over an hour before Ray got distracted. He’d been surveying the room, searching for their target, when he spotted a figure standing back by the bar. They were leaning against a pole, partially concealed by the fracturing caused by the crystals of the chandelier. The glare of the light made it hard to get a good look at them, but Ray was almost certain they were looking back at him. He was about to mention them to Sara when she abruptly pulled him back into the crowd.

“That’s our guy,” she whispered behind her expert smile.

“The one by the bar?” he asked, glancing back over to the figure, who had already disappeared.

“No, the one in the corner,” she hissed, nodding her head in the opposite direction.

Ray followed her motion and indeed saw a frazzled looking man standing around a cocktail table.

“Just stick to the plan,” Sara reminded him before letting go of his arm, “I’ll be right there if anything goes wrong.”

Before he could even nod, Sara slipped into the crowd, leaving him alone as he approached the subject. He stuck out pretty badly, his salt and pepper suit contrasting sharply by the height of French fashion, but his unfriendly scowl protected him from any social interaction and caused Ray to gulp just a bit. Taking a deep breath, Ray straightened his bowtie and stumbled over to the table.

“Dr. Kravets?” he asked, trying to appear as friendly and non-threatening as he could. “My name is Dr. Mansfield. We’ve been exchanging letters.”

The man looked up at him skeptically. Even if the doctor hadn’t exactly dressed for a formal event, Ray was the one that felt more out of place. There was an edge to the way he was looking at him, and when he spoke, his distrust was thicker than his accent.

“You were supposed to say the password.”

Sweat was already beading on the back of Ray’s neck. He’d forgotten about the password.

“My apologies, Dr. Kravets,” he tried to recover, relying on his smile to reassure the man in case his words failed him again. “It’s just the winds from the east had got me all out of sorts today.”

Upon hearing the phrase, the Ukrainian gave him one last, sharp look before relaxing his shoulders. He messed with the collar of his jacket and grumbled as he looked around the room, “This is too public an area. What kind of secret meeting happens at a cocktail party?”

“One that provides a lot of witnesses in case something were to happen,” Ray assured the man, repeating the words Sara had said to him just a few hours before, “Plus, who would think of a ballroom as a good place to exchange one's scientific findings?”

The doctor was not amused. A part of Ray’s head was telling him he wasn’t playing this character right, that he should be more cold and authoritative like what Kravets would have expected. But that didn’t feel right to Ray. He didn’t want to bully this guy into giving him what he wanted. If the reports were to be believed, the doctor had experienced enough of that from his own country.

“The Soviets have been on my tail since Budapest,” the doctor complained, swishing his amber-filled glass. “They’re worried I will sell their secrets to the American pigs.”

Ray frowned at his choice of words but decided to let it go for the sake of the bigger question. “Is that not what you’re doing, Dr. Kravets?”

“I do not want my people to be hurt in the pursuit of some ideological war with the West,” he told him, the edge to his voice becoming very blunt. He practically spat out the last word like a curse. “So if I have to sell my soul to ensure their safety, that is what I will do.”

Ray was taken back by the doctor’s disdain. He knew the Soviets weren't exactly fans of his country, but he thought they could at least be civil. Ray knew he wasn't skilled enough to hide his reaction from the doctor, but he nodded all the same. “I understand... but I hope you know we're working so that nobody else has to get hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffed. The doctor then pulled a file out of his jacket and paused to take one last look at it. For a moment, Ray thought he was having second thoughts, but then Kravets physically threw it away from him. Apparently, happy to be rid of them. “This is the first piece I agreed to bring. I will provide you with the second piece after we are safely in America.”

Ray nodded, shakily picking up the folder and slipping it into his dress jacket. The moment the file was secure against his chest, Sara appeared back on his arm.

“Hey, sweetie,” she cooed with a too-big smile on her face. “Here’s where you ran off to.”

She reached up, almost like she was going to kiss him behind the ear, but at the last minute dodged to his ear to whisper sharply, “There is a bogey floating on your 4. I’ll take the target and you go out the back. Rendezvous at the safe house.”

As quickly as she came, Sara turned her attention toward Dr. Kravets and got him to walk with her back into the crowd. Startled by how quickly the situation had turned, Ray wasted no time cutting a beeline toward the door behind the bar. To do that, he had to skirt around the dance floor to avoid having to wind between the dancers. It was at that point in the night where everyone was well-intoxicated and in a frenzy worthy of the end of the world. The jazz band was intensely thumping away, and their high energy was only feeding into the anxious buzz in Ray’s gut. 

He was only two feet away from the bar when all of his panicked momentum caused him to collide with a drunken guest. The glass of champagne that had been in her hand immediately spilled all over both of them as she recoiled off of his much larger body. He had knocked her a couple of steps back into the bar, but she hardly seemed phased as her dark eyes lazily looked up at him.

“Excuse me,” she said, heavily-accented French coming out of painted lips. She stumbled a bit as she inspected her now empty glass. When she saw it was empty, she abandoned it on the counter and let out a drunken giggle. “I seemed to have lost my footing.”

She kept giggling as she took a stumbling step away from the bar and toward him. Suddenly more concerned by this woman’s apparent level of intoxication than his own safety, Ray watched her take another step and trip over her heel. Thinking fast, he quickly grabbed her by the elbows and guided most of her momentum on to him. With her now clinging to his chest, he could feel her laugh into his coat and wrap her arms around his waist. Carefully, he shuffled them both back over to the bar and had to pry her off of him limb-by-limb. She was still giggling wildly as he helped her onto a stool and set her to lean against the bar so she wouldn’t fall off.

“Are you okay?” he asked both worried and frankly very flustered, “Do you have any friends I can go find for you?”

“Oh, an American!” she shouted, switching to a loud English, “I’ve never met an American before.”

“Yes, you have a beautiful country,” he replied, trying to quiet her down while also attempting to back away again.

“You’re a beautiful,” she replied before laughing at her own mistake. But just as she finished laughed, her face suddenly became serious. “I’ve always wanted to kiss an American.”

And just like that, she used the added height the bar stool gave her to leap up and plant one right on him. Ray stumbled back, both from shock and from the blunt force of this woman practically launching herself at him. Her arms were around his neck in an instant, keeping her lips glued to his for longer than he would have thought possible in her condition. He practically had to throw her off of him before she let their lips come apart. 

“Wow, okay,” he gasped, head spinning.

She sat back down in her chair laughing again. Her drunken giggles were becoming uncomfortably loud, and the air was growing hotter by the second. He couldn’t catch his breath and had to lean against the bar. He felt confused and embarrassed by having such a strong reaction to this woman’s advances. Sure, he’d been taken off guard, and she was incredibly beautiful, but that didn’t explain why his heart would be beating so uncomfortably fast. Or why he still couldn’t breathe right.

“You okay there, Boy Scout?” the woman laughed bouncing in her seat. “I didn’t give it to you too good, did I?”

“No, no,” he assured her even though his eyes suddenly slipped out of focus, “I just need a moment to—“

And then he crashed down on top of her. His muscles had completely given out and his vision was starting to tunnel. The party around him began to fly out further away, and he couldn’t quite tell where he had landed. Somewhere, he could hear the woman laughing again, but for some reason, she sounded far soberer.

“Sorry, Boy Scout. Maybe next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends! I hope you liked this chapter and I've hooked you enough to come back for the next one ^.^! Updates will be every Sunday around 5 pm-ish ETS and there will be 6 chapters so hopefully, this can be a fun little journey for all of us to go on together this fall. This was edited by the beautiful @ladybacontator whomst is a grammar genius and a ray of sunshine <3. Let me know what you think, comments are always welcome and you can even find me on Tumblr @iaintnosidekick if feel so inclined. Thank you so much and hope to see you back next week!  
With lots of Love -May


	2. The Spy in Black

Not much time had passed before he saw her again. She was sitting in the left half of the fifth row, hiding behind a large hat and an unassuming black dress. Her mannerisms were so completely different than the drunken girl that drugged him with a kiss. This woman was proper and radiated a kind of poise only found at high society events. She was so convincing as if just another wealthy art lover sitting around her, Ray was kind of surprised he’d been able to recognize her so quickly. It was obvious she was an expert at all of this and was not someone he should want to mess around with. Which was exactly why he decided to walk up and sit right next to her.

“Is this seat taken?”

When she looked up at him, no one could have guessed that she recognized him. The muscles in her face hardly moved and her expression remained neutral, suggesting only a passive acknowledgment of his presence. But knew he was looking at a well-constructed mask. She was a spy, wearing a persona like most people wore clothing. Her steely stare and sharp features did a lot to help keep her demeanor neutral and unassuming. But Ray noticed the way her eyebrows tipped upward as her eyes widened ever so slightly. It was the only hint that she recognized him, but there was no doubt in his mind that she knew exactly who he was. 

“It’s just so nice to see a familiar face,” he continued, smiling as he went ahead and sat down in the empty seat to her left.

He could feel her eyes burrowing into his suit jacket, but he paid her no heed as he brushed it off and settled into the seat cushion. It was hard for him not to feel too smug about the whole thing. He knew it was completely unearned confidence, but he couldn't help himself. When else was he going to have an opportunity to sit down with the enemy in a situation where they can't go right out and shoot him? Plus, it was a golden opportunity to get to know who he was really fighting. So he avoided her sharp gaze until he had carefully placed his auction paddle in his lap and given her enough time to decide if she was going to stab him.

“I see you’ve finally recovered from your fun night,” she remarked, her Eastern European accent adding a new layer of edge to her tone.

“I have,” he replied, still holding a too-cheeky grin. “Though I was rather surprised to find the bartender expecting me to pick up the bill when I came to.”

“Lucky you still had your wallet,” she countered, her eyes staring coldly forward. “It’d be a shame if someone had taken something so important in your inebriated state.”

His confidence wavered a bit at that. When he woke up to find the files gone, he’d flown into a panic. Sara assured him that it was her fault for leaving him alone, but Kravets had been completely enraged.

“I was very fortunate,” he agreed, forcing himself to rebound for the sake of their banter. Thinking quickly, he decided to push back more boldly. “Though that fortune did not extend to my employers. They were not shy to display their disappointment.”

She paused. Spies always spoke in euphemisms and coded language to keep from attracting the interest of eavesdroppers. It allowed them to speak about missions without letting loose too many secrets. Even so, there were a few taboos that were never to be mentioned -- ever. For example, it was practically forbidden to acknowledge connections or allude to an authority calling the shots above them. Especially on the rare occasions when words were being exchanged with the enemy. So, in a sense, Ray just broke spy rule number one to let her know he was bitter that she had gotten him into trouble.

“I’m surprised you were able to keep your job,” she deadpanned, meeting his challenge head-on by daring to drop the flowery cadence she's started with. “You don’t exactly look like the man suitable for this line of work.” 

“I’m sure,” he laughed, more amused by the thick annoyance in her tone than the insult itself, “But I like to think of myself as a pretty effective tool when I'm put in the right situations.”

She glanced at him questioningly, letting her eyes drag up and down his frame. Even if she didn't say anything, Ray could imagine what she thought of him. A tall, lengthy American, daring to approach her despite knowing exactly who she was, must have painted quite a picture for her. But really, Ray was just curious. She was the epitome of a dark and dangerous Soviet spy he'd been warned about. By all means, he should be terrified of her. 

But he just wasn't. 

It looked like she was going to continue their verbal sparring when the lights dimmed. The room quieted as a man walked out on stage and began to speak in gentle French. Ray was able to catch every other word, but that was mostly because his attention was divided. Even as items began to come on stage and the bidding began, he kept her in the corner of his eye. She was doing the same thing. Making sure he didn't try to pull anything. He was going to try to talk to her again after the first four items when he saw the target roll out on stage. 

It was an ancient wooden box that had been placed onto a small velvet cart. The auctioneer introduced it as chest formally thought to be lost in the Nazi destruction of Europe. He mentioned that there was still skepticism on deciding if it was genuine, though he also assured it would nonetheless be an excellent addition to any art lover’s personal collection. It was a beautiful piece, but it wasn't the craftsmanship that made both Ray and the Soviet straighten in their seats. 

He immediately raised $15,000.

A couple of paddles went up after his, but hers shot up promptly. If he was a more artful bidder, he may have waited longer to bid again, but it was hard not to feel rushed. There may have been others initially interested in the chest, but it was soon it was just him and the Soviet bouncing back and forth, fighting for the highest price. When it reached $32,000, she dared to break the silence. 

“Do you really want to play this game, Boy Scout?” she hissed under her breath before driving the price to $35,000. “I don’t think you want to know what happens if I have to retrieve that chest through other means.”

“I’m sure your love for carpentry is quite genuine,” he replied quietly before raising to $36,000. “But I’d think you of all people would enjoy the thrill of the bid.”

She scoffed, raising to $40,000. “You do not know me.”

“That is the problem,” he agreed, going to $44,000. “We’ve met each other twice now and I don’t even know your name.”

“I know yours, Raymond Palmer.”

His next bid was slow. The name hung in the air like a cloud of thick smoke and stuck in his lungs uncomfortably. He hadn’t heard it spoken in what felt like forever, and she had shot it at him with incredible aim.

“You must have some deep connections to know that name,” he managed to say while finally raising to $50,000.

“Oh please,” she scoffed before raising right to $60,000. “You used to be the owner of one of America’s biggest electrical companies. Did you think being declared dead would protect you in this line of work?”

“That was the plan,” he admitted holding his paddle tighter, “It’d been working pretty well until about ten seconds ago.”

“You arrogant Americans,” she hissed while the next price was called out unmet, “You think you rule the world and so anything is possible. But things cannot be so just because you pray or pay it to be.”

Despite himself, Ray felt his mouth curve, giving her a small smile. Her words sounded exactly how a Soviet spy should sound like, down to a poetic dogma. Disdain for American pride, mocking common beliefs, it was practically out of the little red handbook. It was too perfect. Too much like bait. It was like she was trying to get him to distinctively sever her off into the enemy category. She was making it clean, easy. But Ray found he didn't want to write her off so easily. 

“Well… if that is the case, I’m glad I’m not completely dead,” he sighed, letting the auctioneer’s final call for a higher price echo responseless around them. “This way, I get to let you know that my friends call me Ray.”

As the chest went to the lady in the sun hat, the auditorium broke out in a golf clap. She hadn't turned to look at him, but he watched her glance over at him. Only then, did he see behind the mask. It wasn't much. Just a hint of surprise in the glint of her eye, but it was the most genuine thing he'd seen on her all day. By defying her expectations, he'd earned a peek at this woman he'd been sitting next to for the last half hour. Even if he didn't have a clear picture, he instantly had the desire to see more. 

An usher tapped her on the shoulder, startling the both of them. After he explained that he had come to take her backstage, she shooed him back and took to follow. When she graced Ray with one more second of eye contact, he made sure to give her one last smile even if she was still looking at him skeptically. The moment she turned away, she regained her earlier costume of regalia and followed the usher without another word. Ray watched her until she disappeared behind the stage curtain, just as the chest had seconds before. After waiting a couple of minutes into the next bid, he stood up to leave. There were many more items to be auctioned off, but he didn’t want to sit through them by himself. Plus, he was sure Sara had swooped in and taken the contents of the chest the moment it'd been wheeled off the stage. He could only imagine how mad his new friend would be once she realized he'd been distracting her. It wasn’t a great way to start a friendship but, at least in Ray’s mind, they were even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooo I love bold Ray XD Hope you liked this chapter! If you were disappointed this was kind of short, don't worry. Next chapter is the one of the longer ones! Let me know what you think so far and don't be afraid to reach out! Love you guys <3 -May


	3. Billiard Hall Brawl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to spoil anything, but there is a fight in this chapter with semi-graphic descriptions of head trauma and threating with a knife. So if that's not something you're comfortable with just a heads up!

Ray was going to have to stop letting Sara leave him places. While it was nice she trusted him, she believed his success at the auction came from actual skill. If he was able to approach the enemy and distract her long enough for the chest’s contents to be stolen away, he had to possess the gumption to run his own mission. It couldn’t have been that he'd only made it through the last one on his overly friendly nature and involuntary desire to understand his adversaries. No, it couldn't be something so mundane. 

Which was how Ray ended up choking on the smoke of twenty-or-so shady thugs in a dingy billiard hall. It was a small building on a side street in West Germany. The row of motorcycles lining the front door marked it as a rough-and-tough place that not just anyone should walk into, especially an obvious intellectual like Ray. So he’d slipped in through the back and tried very hard to hide behind his beer bottle. The clientele standing around the three-or-so billiard tables had to be at least fifty pounds bigger than him and wearing at least twice as much leather. Ray felt like he was sticking out like a sore thumb. 

So he made himself a little spot at the far left side of the bar and prayed his thin, black jacket would protect him. He was facing the wall, which wasn’t a great way to keep an eye on the room, but it did prevent accidental eye contact. Every once in a while, he’d glance back, but that earned him more suspicious looks from the already-paranoid bikers. Therefore, he kept his eyes on his drink and tried to listen for his contact’s footsteps. If it was them, they were supposed to approach Ray, give him the code phrase, and he’d respond by buying them a specific drink. The location of their next target was then to be slipped into his pocket and Ray would pass back an envelope of money under the bar. Then, they’d go their separate ways with no more than ten words. Sara had said it would be quick and easy, and Ray was inclined to believe her.

That was until a certain someone plopped into the stool next to him.

“Two vodkas, please.”

Ray's heart fell out of his chest. There she was, for the third mission in a row. The Russian spy was sitting on the barstool next to him like it was the most casual thing in the world. Ray was 100% certain that he wasn’t able to hide his reaction as well as she had before. He wasn’t even able to keep his jaw from dropping, his head from swiveling, or his eyes from staring at her like a complete idiot. She was dressed down significantly from the last two times he saw her, blending in with the bikers in a similarly well-worn leather outfit. He saw a pair of worn blue jeans and a set of particularly intimidating boots layered with spikes and all. Even her dark eye makeup allowed her to fit in perfectly well with the grungy bar around them. However, her jacket was too big for her smaller frame and fell far past her waist, suggesting even she couldn’t find one threatening enough in her size. Even so, Ray probably wouldn’t have been able to point her out if he didn’t already know her.

“What are you doing here?” he blurted, his mind completely devoid of that confident wit from their last encounter. 

She took her sweet time replying to him. When the bartender came, she took both drinks and inspected them thoroughly. She hadn't even looked at him, but he knew she must have thought he looked ridiculous in his fake biker get-up. He felt like a kid playing dress-up next to her, even though she was just as fake a thug as he was. Her presence made his stress levels spike, and all he could do was watch the tip of her finger out-lined the ring of her glass and tap the side with the edge of her black-lacquered nail. She appeared to be as calm as ever and enjoying holding him captive in her silence. For a moment, he thought she was going to keep him there forever until she pushed one of her glasses in front of him with a single finger. 

“Oh, probably the same reason you are,” she sighed, picking up her remaining glass delicately. “It’s like we’re tied at the hip.”

“It sure does look like it,” he agreed with an anxious smile, relaxing a bit at the sound of her lax tone, “Are you here to buy someone a drink?”

“An Export lager,” she nodded, taking a sip of her vodka. “It would seem we once again have a mutual task.”

With a sigh of resignation, he felt himself settle into his stool more than he had all night. For some reason, the fact that she hadn't reverted to spy-doublespeak assured Ray that she wasn't trying to pull a fast one on him. If she wanted the location, all she'd have to do was stomp in with a tough-girl façade and be out without even stirring Ray out of his corner. No, if she sat next to him, she had done so for some other reason. It was kind of hard to imagine what reason would involve her hunching over a drink and disappointedly frowning into it, but Ray decided to take it as a sign of tentative trust. 

“What kind of informant would set a meeting with the two of us at the exact same time?” he asked, risking a quick look back at the room.

She scoffed. “A friend that’s trying to start something.”

“You think so? Seems like a risky move.”

“Not if someone has bigger pockets,” she groaned. When she took a final gulp of her drink, her face soured at the taste. “I bet a bigger fish caught wind of who he was trying to sell his information to, and it was that person who came up with this brilliant plan.”

When the bartender asked if she wanted another, she just nodded and eagerly passed him her glass. Her eyes paused on his still-untouched glass before looking up at him for the first time that night. The arch of her brow pointed up as she nodded toward the clear liquid. When he shook his head and lifted the beer still in his hand, she frowned and turned her attention back to her now-filled glass. With a large swig, she downed half of it before bringing it back to the counter. He didn't know why, but just watching her made a smirk to slip onto his face. She caught him almost immediately.

“What?” she hissed, apparently annoyed.

“Nothing,” he tried, failing to wipe the grin off his face. “I just didn’t expect you to be such a grump.”

Almost instantaneously, her hand reached out and slapped his forearm. “I am not a grump,” she protested, making his lips curl even more. “I'm just not happy with how this night has gone.”

“Well, me neither," he laughed, unable to ignore her pouting lip, "But I think things could be worse. All things considered.”

“Things can always be worse,” she mumbled, turning away from him again. “I just can’t go back empty-handed again.”

With that, his smile fell. It wasn’t that he believed every bad thing he’d ever heard about the USSR, but he couldn’t imagine any intelligence agency would be happy with failure. He wasn’t exactly sorry he and Sara had kept information out of enemy hands, but he did feel bad she had been the one blamed for it.

“I don’t think we were going to be able to get anything out of this guy anyway,” he offered as a small comfort. "He probably didn't even have the nerve to come."

Her eyes had turned on her glass, but he noticed her features had softened. It wasn’t that she was smiling, but the tension in her face had disappeared. He knew that she understood he couldn’t exactly regret her losses, they were still on the opposite sides after all, but hopefully, she could recognize his comforting attempts as genuine. 

He didn't realize he had gotten lost in her face until it suddenly sharpened with a thought.

“Not necessarily,” she purred, turning to him with a burst of energy. There was what could only be described as an evil gleam in her eye to match the crooked curl of her lip. It was quite a contrast to the gloomy slouch she had just been in. “Have you ever been in a bar fight?”

In hindsight, Ray should have known exactly what she was going to do. But then again, she did it so fast his brain didn’t have time to catch up with his eyes. One moment, she was eyeing the beer bottle he still had in his hands, and the next, she had thrown it clear across the room. Time slowed down as he was forced to watch in horror as the spinning bottle arced across the billiard tables and smacked flat-end on the back of the biggest biker’s head. It shattered fantastically and knocked the ill-fated man out like a light. His body stiffened instantly and fell over onto the billiard table with a perfect thud. 

The room fell icy silent. All eyes were glued on the comatose thug as their minds worked to process what had just happened. It was a slow, cold sinking of reality that had Ray completely frozen in his stool, unable to breathe with the shock of it all. That was until he made the fatal error of catching the eyes of the second biggest biker in the bar. 

There was hardly any time for Ray to brace himself. One second, he was being stared down by this complete wall of a man and the next, said wall was charging at him with the speed of a freight train. When his huge fist rose up, Ray was working on pure panic and a prayer that he’d go back to Sara in one piece. 

When the fist swung wide, Ray made the quick decision to duck and aim for the nose. His much smaller fist came up from below and smacked right into the man’s nose with a disturbing crunch. The man stumbled back stunned -- giving Ray just a moment to be happy he’d landed anything -- but by that point, all hell had broken loose. It felt like the entire bar was rushing him as he picked up a barstool and chucked it at them. Though not as graceful a throw as the Soviet's, the legs of the stool managed to spin out and knock down at least three of the charging men.

However, one of them had the brains to duck and bum-rushed him back into the bar. Ray’s back hit the edge of the counter with a sting, but it was nothing compared to the fist that clocked him right in the jaw. The whole world disappeared as the force sent his feet off the ground, flipping him over to the other side. He landed on the hardwood floor with no other cohesive thought than that he really hoped he hadn’t lost any teeth. He waited for another lumbering body to jump down after him, but none ever came, despite the sound of the brawl still raging on. 

He would have been more concerned for his safety or the swelling in his cheek if he didn’t immediately look up to see the Soviet holding a knife up to the bartender’s throat. She’d somehow gotten behind him and wrapped herself around his waist like a viper and looked like she’d snap just as easily.

“What the hell!?” Ray exclaimed, head spinning for so many reasons. 

“This is the Сволочь that set us up,” she explained, her eyes as sharp as her knife.

“That doesn’t exactly answer my question,” Ray gaped, still unable to figure out what he was seeing.

“Please,” the bartender spat out from under her grip. “She’s crazy.”

Without hesitation, she kicked him in the kneecap with the back of her heel. The bartender cursed in pain but fell silent. Satisfied, the Soviet glanced up at Ray like she was expecting him to do something. At first, he had absolutely no idea what it was she wanted until he remembered what he had said to her before she threw the bottle. That was when the whole situation finally clicked into focus. She'd used him as a distraction and created the bar fight to smoke out their scheming informant. Now she had him in her vice and she was asking Ray to squeeze the location he’d promised out of him. Though he didn’t exactly like the idea of interrogating someone with a knife to their throat, he did get punched in the face for this chance.

“Why did you set us up?” he began with, somewhat shouting to be heard over the crash of a barstool.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man snarled, earning him a tighter grip on his neck.

Ray frowned. 

“It just seems like a risky thing to do," he coaxed, glancing at her hoping she'd loosen up a little. She glared back at him, but relaxed anyway. “I don't think the best way to sell your information is to invite a Soviet and an American to meet you on the same night at the same time. Wouldn’t it have been safer to schedule me for lunch and her for dinner?”

She chuckled at that. It was a particularly smooth thing for him to say considering his frazzled state. Maybe it was that innate spy skill Sara had gone on about.

“Maybe,” their captive scoffed, being so bold as to look at Ray in the eye, “But it is not as crazy as a Soviet and American meeting and not trying to kill each other.”

She jostled him, ignoring another look from Ray.

“Do you still have the information we came for?” she hissed into his ear, adding dangerous pressure to the knife.

“It’d be in your best interest,” Ray interjected before she could slice him open. “If you just tell us what we paid for, we’ll go on our way like none of this ever happened.”

When he didn't respond, they were forced into a tense silence. The sound of a billiard table snapping in half came echoed from across the bar. Ray wondered if the riot would die down or if the police would show up first. That thought put a looming time restraint on them, which he was sure she could feel as well. It was no wonder her patience was shorter than usual. Hopefully, it'd last long enough for the bartender to make the right decision.

Thankfully, he did. With a frustrated grumble, the bartender nodded toward his front right pants pocket. “It's in there.”

Quickly, Ray reached across and into the man's pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper and quickly opening it. She watched him closely as he pressed it flat and turned it so that they could both take a look. It was a scratchy map of a city and a similarly messy address. 

“That was the location my associate gave me,” the bartender added with a new shake in his voice, “It was him who convinced me to arrange the meeting like this.”

“I’m sure it took a lot of persuading,” she said before she slammed the handle of her knife against his temple. The man crumbled in her arms, and she pushed him off like a sack of potatoes.

“Was that really necessary?” Ray sighed holding out his hand to help her get out from under the bartender’s dead weight.

“Did you want a bullet in your back?” she quipped, still taking his hand.

Together, they peaked their heads over the bar to see that the fight had finally dwindled out. At least three bikers laid unconscious on the floor, but everyone else seemed to still be functioning enough to pick up the nearest beer. Ray was thankful no one seemed to be too hurt, even though he could already feel the side of his face bruising into a nice purple.

With everyone’s energy completely sapped out of them, Ray was able to lead her out using the same side door he’d used to slip in. It opened up to a thin alley that had just enough room for them to walk side by side along a line of trash cans. He stopped just before it spilled out into the street and held her back with a half-annoyed smile.

“You know you could have gotten me killed in there, right?”

She met his question with her now mischievous smile.

“Isn’t that what ‘enemy-friends’ are for?”

He laughed. She’d called him her friend. An ‘enemy-friend’, but it still had the word ‘friend’ in it. The strange part was that Ray knew she meant it. She had been the one to ask him to interrogate her hostage and trusted him to share the information that they had come to the bar for. Even if she had set him up to take the blame for the bottle-throw, Ray had a feeling she only did it because she knew he’d be able to get out of it. It was a ludicrous thought and he knew he still shouldn’t trust her, but he did anyway.

Which was why he held out the paper from the bartender to her.

“Here, you can take this back with you.”

The smile disappeared from her face. She glanced first at him and then back at the paper. She looked confused with the biggest eyes he'd ever seen and an adorably agape mouth.

“Won’t your partner be upset you didn’t complete your mission?” she asked.

“I’m sure she’ll be disappointed, yes,” he shrugged. Realizing she was hesitant to take it, he grabbed her right hand and folded the paper into her fingers. “But I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Her eyes flashed up to him. They shined brightly with the night light around them and he watched as they studied his face. It was like she was looking for some reason to not take the paper. Maybe even for a reason not to trust him. But she must not have found anything, because, eventually, she closed her palm. 

“I hope you have a good memory,” she joked, holding a small smile. 

He laughed. “Not to brag, but I already have the address memorized. 

She chuckled, looking back down at her hand. "Well, thank you."

"Sure," he smiled. Feeling bold he added, "Though can I ask you something?”

Her head eyes snapped back up skeptically, but he held his smile.

“In my head, I’ve kind of just been calling you ‘The Soviet’,” he explained, suddenly feeling flustered having said it out loud, “It doesn’t have to be your real one, but can I have a name I can call you... or something?”  
Even though she hesitated, her face burst out into a full grin. The question was ridiculous, sitting there between them. There was no way she was going to freely give him her actual name, but Ray really did want to call her something. Still, she was looking up at him with those wide eyes again with a smile that caught his breath.

When she nodded her head, she pulled her hand out of his. He didn’t even realize he’d still been holding it and he missed it immediately. The German air felt so cold on his empty palm and he wished she wouldn’t leave him both answerless and cold. But, he didn’t stop her when she took a step away from him. He thought she was going to disappear into the night without a second thought, but then she looked back at him one last time.

“Nora.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning everyone! I can't believe I'm only three weeks in and I already missed my upload time. So sorry, but I hope this longer chapter made up for it. As always thank you so much for reading and please feel free to let me know what you think so far!!! <3 With all the love, May


	4. The Express Train to Vienna

It came as a bit of a shock to Ray that there were not many places to hide on an express train. After having a wait staff uniform thrown at him, Sara instructed him to get on the 10 o'clock train to Vienna and blend in with the other workers in the dining car. He didn't like the idea of having to fake belonging for hours on end, but once the lunch rush began, Ray realized that that was not going to be a problem. Everyone from the kitchen staff to the servers had to focus on their job, and therefore, did not have the time to care. If they did find out he was a stowaway, he was fairly certain they wouldn’t mind as long as he was helping them work. Which was how he ended up spending all day taking orders and balancing trays, weaving in and out of wobbly train cars. However, when he saw his opportunity to slip away between afternoon tea and early dinner, he took it gladly.

The train was about nine cars long, not including the engine or caboose. With the dining car up front, he would have to travel through most of the train to get to the service car in the back. His opportunity came when someone called to deliver a drink to the farthest passenger car. Ray took it eagerly and moved most of the way to the rear of the train without any reason to feel out of place. However, once he had given up his drink, he had to be careful who spotted him lingering so far from his post.

Ray had just made to the end of the last state car when he saw the knob to the service car jiggle. From his time in the kitchen, he knew every inch of the train was in use to maximize the number of passengers it was able to carry and--having taken a look at the seating arrangement to deliver the drink--that meant there was no empty passenger couch near him that he could slip into. If he was a smooth talker, standing his ground might have been an option, but he already knew he'd be too tongue-tied to fool a hall monitor. And so he panicked. His eyes fell to the handle of the only closet in the car and bolted for it. It was all he could do to not tear the door open and crash into its low door frame. With the door quickly closed, he felt like he finally had a second to breathe. That was until he realized there was someone inside with him.   
Pressed up against the other side of the closet, only a couple of inches from him, was Nora. The slants in the door let in slivers of light that crossed over her face, revealing two green eyes that shone through the darkness. In the little bit of light that slipped in, Ray could just make out the hostess’ uniform and the tight braid draped over her shoulder. Even in the dim lighting, he watched her eyes go wide, running through the same surprise they’d gotten used to for bumping into each other yet again. But then her eyebrows dipped. They solidified into a thin line to match her pressed lips. For such a good spy, it was surprising how expressive she was when she was taken off guard.

“What are you doing here?”

He was about to come up with some smooth remark—maybe defuse the tension that looming six inches away tended to build up—but at the same time, he heard the car door outside click open. In his overwhelming shock, he’d forgotten the whole reason he’d gotten in the closet in the first place. Gripped in fresh panic, Ray’s right hand flew up to cover his mouth to keep any noise from falling out. It was unnecessary and completely ridiculous, but all of his logical thinking has flown right out the slits in the door. Which is why when Nora’s lips parted to form some sort of confused question, he clapped his hand over them without even thinking.

For a split second, Ray thought she was going to stab him. Her eyes blew out even wider than before and one of her hands immediately snapped around his wrist. Cold fear drenched over him as Ray thought his carelessness had doomed them both, but then they heard the sound of someone step inside the car. They froze. Only then did she recognize what he had been trying to do and relaxed under his palm. Together, they listened as the person passed their closet and slowly made their way down the compartments. They paused about mid-way down the car and gently knocked on one of the doors. Thankfully, no one responded; they continued down to the other door and left the car as quickly as they came. 

Even though the coast was clear, they remained locked in place. There was a thick shock freezing Ray stiff, and Nora didn’t seem to be processing anything any faster. His sloppy thinking had brought them only two inches apart and practically pressed against each other. His offending hand was the only real barrier between them, with her hold on his wrist as reinforcement. They were too close, far too close for friends. There wasn’t much he could do, but unintentionally notice how deep the greens of her eyes were. 

Unsurprisingly, Nora was the first one to break away. With a huff, she used her free hand to push him back from her. He hit the wall behind him with a small thud, but it wasn’t like she could get him out of her space. The size of the closet meant they were still within arm’s length from each other and her hand still had a tight hold on his wrist. Following his gaze, she immediately dropped it and tried to recover by pressing closer to her side of the closet. Her eyes fell to the floor so quickly all Ray could notice was how hard she was breathing. Sure, she looked upset—being touched unexpectedly was always disarming no matter how well-intentioned—but not as angry as he would have expected. If anything, she looked…flustered.

“Sorry,” he finally managed to say, not knowing what else there was to say. 

“It's fine,” she said, her voice sounding surprisingly breathy.

With the little bit of room she had, Nora straightened her sleek vest jacket and did her best to recover. It was only then that her eyes found their way back up to him. When she saw that he was still scared stiff, she rolled her eyes at him hard; Ray couldn’t stop his his lip from tipping up. Once again, he should have been concerned about seeing her, but again, he really didn't care. In fact, he was happy to see her so soon. Sure, he’d just put them into the worst situation imaginable, but the fact that she hadn’t immediately strangled him with her tie made him feel like it couldn't have been that bad. Call him stupid or naïve, but Ray was feeling rather optimistic about the whole thing.

“Did the Americans teach you that move?” she asked, looking annoyed at his sudden grin.

“Nope,” he replied, finally relaxing a little, “That was a Palmer-improvisation special.”

The edge of her mouth curled just enough to give her a hint of a smile. It made her look kind of cute, if a little awkward, due to the three by four space around them. If Ray wanted too, he could pretend they were two normal people that found themselves in the most cliché hiding space of all time. He wasn’t exactly sure what kind of normal people would find themselves in a closet together on accident, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him from enjoying the thought.

“It was Nora, right?” he asked, making sure she saw his smirk.

The laugh she let out felt like a victory even if she cut it short.

“You do have a good memory,” she retorted, ignoring the question. “I guess that's why we're stowing away on the same train, right?”

They both chuckled. The tension had thinned tremendously, but that didn’t mean it was gone completely. He probably could have filled the time with a couple more witty remarks or jokes about how they were doomed to forever follow each other, but for some reason, all he could think about was how much bigger he was than her. Even hunched like he was, Ray stood a full foot taller and took up at least twice as much space. As mundane as it was, it was the first time he had even noticed. Even when she was playing the ditzy drunk, the way she held herself commanded a much bigger presence than her smaller frame should allow. Through her body language and expression, she made one forget that she could hardly be more than five-and-a-half feet tall.

After he noticed that, he began to notice a lot of things. Like the way her eyes kept sparkling as she looked around the closet. Or how the usually-androgynous vest worked to exaggerate her slim figure. Now that he was looking at her, he realized that she actually looked really good in that hostess uniform. Every little detail about her started to pop out at him whether he wanted it to or not. He even fixated on the couple strands of hair that had fallen in front of her face that he had the strangest urge to tuck behind her ear. 

As if she’d felt his stare, Nora’s eyes snapped up to his. They locked him in place and made his heart skip. He felt like he had been caught peeping. Of course he wasn't, but he still felt like she should be upset at him. But she wasn't. He didn’t know how to describe the look on her face, except that she was looking for something. Maybe she was taking her time to look at him. Maybe she was noticing how his hair was probably too long for any self-respecting American man or that he was towering over her like a giant. Maybe she was starting to realize all the little details that she’d never really noticed but suddenly seemed to be very important now that they were standing only eight inches apart.

Or maybe she was thinking none of that. Maybe she was a good spy that could keep reality firmly between herself and an enemy agent. Maybe she was still skeptical of him. Maybe she thought he was a much better spy than he was and he was trying to play her for a fool. Perhaps she found all his friendliness insincere and thought his willingness to understand her was an elaborate front that would drop at any second. He hoped she didn’t think any of that, but then again, there was no reason to think she did. She was just staring at him. Driving him further down this maddening spiral with nothing but her forever green eyes.

When she finally freed him from her gaze, she shattered the silence around them and bulldozed past whatever feelings Ray had just been entangled by in three words.

“This is ridiculous.”

Without even trying to address what had just happened, her hand snapped up into the empty space between them and reached for the door. He tensed up at the fast motion but relaxed when he realized she was just trying to introduce more space into the equation. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of opening the door. He’d literally been next to the knob the entire time, and as long as they made sure no one was outside, there was absolutely no reason they had to stay smashed together. He’d laugh at himself if he hadn’t felt like such an idiot. Nora probably still thought he was an idiot, which was why he let her push down on the handle and be the one to open their way to freedom.

But then it didn’t open. The horizontal knob--that attached to the latch, that kept the door shut--didn’t budge. Ray was pretty sure he stopped breathing. Nora tried again harder, letting out a grunt of frustration, but again the knob would not move.

They were stuck.

Ray gulped. “Did you lock the door?”

“No,” she snapped, anxiety distorting her tone, “What kind of closet door locks?”

“Apparently one on express trains,” he laughed, trying not to hyper fixate on how incredibly close they were. 

With an exasperated sigh, she pressed her way closer to the handle. Overreacting just a bit, Ray flung himself against the back of the closet. A broom dug into his lower back along with a slew of other miscellaneous cleaning supplies, but he willed himself to be smaller still. With them both facing the door and him at her back, she was even closer than before. Hardly even an inch kept her shoulder blades from brushing against his chest, and her attempts to fight the lock didn’t exactly help the matter. Thankfully, she picked up on his immediate discomfort and slowed down, making her intentions clear right before she acted. So when he saw her hand reach toward the crown of her head, he leaned back so she could move without scratching his chin, giving her room to dig two fingers into the back of her hair and pull a black pin out of her dark locks. 

“What is that?” he asked, both because he was curious and to distract himself.

“Americans aren’t the only one with gadgets,” Nora replied, snapping the pin open with a dramatic click.

Now completely open, Ray realized it wasn’t a hairpin. It looked more like a small screwdriver with a long flat tip at one end and the other curving around into a point. It would probably look like an odd barrette to anyone else, but Ray recognized all of the ways those two edges could be used. He was honestly impressed with the simplicity of the tool and made note of the design for later. 

“I wish I was able to keep a lock pick in my hair,” he joked, watching her flip it around in her hand. “But I think I’d just be called a hippie and told to get a haircut.”

He couldn’t see if Nora smiled, but he swore he heard her let out a small puff of air. With her turned away from him, he wasn’t able to easily read her facial cues and guess what she was thinking, but it also meant he wasn’t constantly subject to her gaze. Which was helpful as he needed to pull himself together. That was until she bent down, throwing a response over her shoulder with a knowing smirk.

“I’m sure you could hide one in all that pretty hair of yours.”

Ray practically blushed. 

Thankfully, Nora turned her attention back to the knob and got to work on the lock. The sound of her hairpin clinking against the metal came as a relief to Ray as it brought back memories of his lab. It was kind of calming to let himself think the sounds were of him putting together a gadget and placing little pieces together ever so perfectly. It seemed like forever since he’d held a proper tool in his hand, and he almost wished she’d let him have a crack at the lock. Just to calm himself and to do something that he knew he was really good at.

It was just a simple thought, but after a couple of minutes, Ray began to think he was going to get his chance. The fortitude of the lock had not become any less daunting, and there were no faint pings of weights being pushed into position. The clinks turned into scrapes, and Nora’s knuckles whitened around her tool. A Russian curse slipped from her lips as went from fighting ferociously with the metal to trying to murder it. 

Ray stood there, stunned stiff at the blatant display of frustration when the pin snapped. The flat end stayed in the lock—frankly looking like it’d been bent into a thousand directions—and the hooked end shot out of Nora’s hand. It flew over her shoulder, hit Ray square in the chest, and bounced off softly, finally falling to their feet with a light clatter.

It sat there untouched for a long time. Nora hadn’t moved from her knees by the door, and Ray couldn’t keep his eyes off the pin. Neither of them wanted to be the first one to move. 

The knowledge that Nora couldn’t pick a lock came as a surprise, but somehow Ray knew that wasn’t the real issue. It could be that she could normally pick a lock with a paper clip and one hand tied behind her back. If that was the case, then it wasn’t the lock at all that was giving her trouble. Maybe it was the fact that it was him standing behind her and breathing so close she could feel it on her neck. Maybe it was his very presence that made opening the door impossible. Whatever it was, Ray recognized that it was a delicate topic. Something they could deal with when they weren’t trapped in a closet together. So, careful to keep a bit of space, he bent down and picked up the pin.

“Can I try?”

Nora turned her head to look at the pin that was now between Ray’s fingers. When she didn’t say anything, he thought he had made the wrong call and made the situation worse. But then she looked away from the pin and up at him. It was similar to the look she gave him back in the alley, shocked and surprised, but this time she had a soft smile. Just enough to offer a small thanks when words weren’t an option. She took a moment to glance back at the lock and let out a long, defeated sigh.

“I’m not good with things.”

He smiled and motioned to the pin as he told her, “Things may be the only thing I’m good at.”

She pursed her lips as she stood up, turning to face him, bringing them no more than an inch apart, but this time neither of them moved to change that. Ray just watched her, standing there looking up at him, letting her eyes trail down to the pin and back up. If anything, he almost felt their bodies leaning into each other. It was as if their gravities were willing them to eliminate what space was left. And with that thought, he realized. He could have kissed her. All he’d have to do was just lean down a little. Maybe reach out his hand, tip up her chin, ask if it’d be okay. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to make things any worse for themselves. Things were already…complicated. It was risky to consider each other friends, let alone anything more. He didn’t want to put her in any more danger than he already had. So, he pushed down the feeling, nodded toward the door, and waited until she let him pass.

Now trying to ignore the tugging in his chest, he focused his attention on what he did best. Ray got down to be eye level with the lock and inspected it for any damage Nora may have caused. He took up all the floor space, knees pressed against the door and toes bumping against the back wall. Nora stood on either side of his legs and wasn’t shy about leaning over and watching him work. Even at a glance, Ray could see why she had had such a hard time opening what was admittedly a pretty simple lock. The flat end he had to jiggle out was not the best end for the job and would have been difficult for even him to use. So, after handing the flat end to back to her, he switched it out with the hook. After that, it was a simple matter of pushing the weights up and down and listening for the clicks. Even taking his time, the lock was open in under a minute. He glanced up to her when it was done and let her do the honors of pressing down on the handle.

The rush of cold air hit his face like with a rush of relief. Ray hadn’t realized how much heat they had built up in the tiny space or how much he’d missed being able to stretch out his arms. Nora wasted no time to jump over him into the hall and let out a sigh. Ray joined her once he had casually pocketed the two ends of the broken pin. They’d normally weigh heavy at the bottom of his uniform pocket, but something told Ray she’d rather him have them than have to look at them again.

“This has to be our worst meeting yet,” she laughed, looking back at him with a surprisingly playful gleam in her eye.

“I think I prefer it to getting clocked in the face,” he replied as they stood next to her at the window.

Somehow, the car was still empty. No passenger had left their carriage and no member of the staff had wandered back to fill an order. It was just quiet with nothing but the sounds of a moving train to fill the space.

“I guess we have to go back to pretending we’re not friends.”

Nora sighed. “We’ve made this really difficult for ourselves.”

Ray nodded, giving her one last smile before they parted. “So, I think that since I got the door open, I get first look at the service car.”

“I think that’s fair,” she agreed, batting at his arm passively as retaliation for mentioning the lock again, “But you have to leave me something.”

“Of course,” he nodded, “What are friends for?” 

They smiled in agreement, but neither of them moved. They just stood there, looking out at the European countryside, hoping they could stretch out their time together just a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooooo FLUF XD. This one was a lot of fun to write and even more, fun to edit! (Again, I could not do this without @Lady-baconator aka the love of my life <3) If you are enjoying this story please let me know! We've got a long wait between now and season 5 so maybe inspiration for more can strike until then :P Thanks again so much for reading!!! ^.^


	5. The Shot that Came in Through the Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, friends just a quick heads up. This chapter takes a significant tone shift and I did update the tags accordingly. Though just to make sure you are thoroughly warned: there is major gun violence, bodily injury, and minor character death. Please keep that in mind when deciding if that is something you are comfortable with and make sure to take care of yourselves. Alright, onto the chapter!

The next time they saw each other, shots were fired. Ray and Sara had been in the middle of a street protest looking for their target—who had turned out to be an old student of Kravets’—when someone discharged a weapon. The crowd panicked. People scattered out in every direction, threatening to trample anyone who couldn’t keep up. The rush of chaotic movement was overwhelming. Sara called out that she had spotted the shooter. She disappeared into the madness, shouting back her plan to pursue. Just as Ray was about to follow her, the crowd thinned enough for him to not only spot their asset but realize the bullet had found its mark.

Ray burst through the stifling pressure of people and fell beside the gasping man. His name was Sirbu. He could have been one of the most brilliant minds in all of the Soviet Union. His knowledge in molecular chemistry could have made him a key part of Kravets’ research. He’d been developing a fuel that could have changed the face of engineering as a whole. He could have been a leading force in the betterment of humanity as a whole. But, at that moment, looking up at Ray, he just looked wide-eyed and completely terrified.

“It’s okay,” Ray tried to tell him, “You’ll be okay.”

But Sirbu didn’t last long enough to respond. The chemist died lying in the street, fear plain in his eyes. Ray hadn’t known him, but tears began to burn in his eyes anyway. He was too young. Too willing to do good for the world. It wasn’t fair that such a bright person would be slain so brutally. There was no reason that the student had to be killed. It didn’t make sense. None of it did. At least until, out on the edge of his vision, he saw her.

Without hesitation, Ray shot after her. Something hot and heavy had begun to boil deep in his veins and it guided his movements through the sea of people. The crowd was thick and he was not as nimble as she was. However, what he lacked in speed he made up for in height. Eyes locked on to her over the heads of the crowd, he followed her every movement -- she couldn’t lose him no matter how fast she weaved. So even if he was twenty feet behind, she couldn’t simply disappear. 

“Nora!” he shouted. Her name echoed off the brick.

Her boots clicked as she slowed to a stop. She hadn’t made it far, maybe only ten yards down an alley. There was no telling if she had stopped because she heard her name or because she sensed his gun pointed between her shoulder blades. With her back turned to him, there was no trying to read her expression or look into her soul. All he could do was watch her breath billow up as she tried to catch it in the cold air. Everything else was deadly still, only her long coat daring to move with a weapon between them. Even Ray’s hands had stopped shaking, despite that his heart refused to stop racing.

Time stopped. Ray couldn’t have guessed if they stood like that for five seconds or five years. All he could understand was the gentle push of the wind on her hair and the weight of the cold metal in his hand. Again, he was struck by the disbelief of this reality. But there was nothing else that could have been more real. This was what fate wanted. Two adversaries in an un-understandable conflict facing off, surrounded by bleak stone.

After an eternity, Nora's arms began to move. First her hands rose up to her shoulders and then out in a vain attempt to look less threatening. When her head slowly turned to look at him, her body followed in the same overly-smooth motion. The details of her were blurred with his tears, but Ray was sure she had relaxed the lines of her face and removed any edge from her gaze. She was trying to make a point with her careful movements and restraint. Ray might have understood that better if he wasn’t still staring at the eyes of a dead man.

“I said freeze!” he screamed, making them both jump at his volume.

She paused, waiting for him to do something... or doubting he was capable of doing anything. After a moment had passed and he hadn’t, she spoke in a small, even tone and dared to take a step forward.

“It wasn’t me.”

“Stop right there!”

His voice broke.

“I would not kill a man with such potential. There is no getting his ideas if he is dead,” she explained as she continued to close the distance between them. “You have to trust me.”

Ray wanted to. Oh _God_, he wanted to so much. She made sense, he knew she was logically correct. He wanted so desperately to trust her. But every part of his training taught him he shouldn’t. Training that had been baked into all the cells in his body that could only conclude that trusting her would be just as good as a death sentence. But he had to trust her. Even though he shouldn’t. It was suddenly a lot to process. A lot to sort out. So much was happening and it threatened to take over. He was practically trembling when he found the words to speak again.__

_ _“Then stop moving.”_ _

_ _And she did. Three feet away from him. Close enough to grab his gun if she was quick enough. Close enough to brush past it if he let her. But she didn’t do any of those things. She just stood there, waiting for him to sort out his thoughts. With her so close, her whole being snapped into focus where nothing else could. Now, he could see that all of her domineering presence, all of her masks, and all of her skills as a spy had been melted away. It was just her. Nora. Standing in front of him, showing him exactly who she was. A person who was looking at him hurting, and silently begging him to believe her. And, finally, he did._ _

_ _And then another shot rang out._ _

_ _Time slowed down as Ray watched the bullet fly past him and hit its mark. He watched in horror as Nora’s whole side was pushed back from where she stood, the rest of her body recoiling from the impact. Her face didn’t register the pain until the bullet had lodged itself into the resolve of her bone. But even then, she did not cry out. The muscles of her face only went slack, widening her eyes as they locked onto his. Ray could only assume it was the shock that caused her tears, but why they came didn’t matter. Because she looked terrified. It was in that half-a-second that the reality of Nora’s mortality came crashing through Ray like a freight train. She was in danger, and he had to get her out of sight of the shooter._ _

_ _With much less grace than he had been trained with, Ray reached out and pulled Nora toward him. A shockingly painful noise escaped her as he did so, but he felt her curl up into him anyway as he wrapped his body over hers. And then, not taking the time to think anything through, he pivoted the both of them in a jagged swing, letting the momentum send them into a mangled tumble. He hit the brick wall hard and slid down to the cobblestone with an even harsher thud. He prayed he had absorbed most of the force and cushioned Nora. She had landed on him with a short cry, but her constant grip on his arms assured him that she was, at least, okay. He might have felt embarrassed for once again putting themselves in a situation with skin to skin contact, but such things felt trivial when being shot at from an unknown assailant. Which is why he had aimed so that they landed with an old metal dumpster to serve as cover. However it wasn’t much, so when Ray heard a second shot bounce off the lid, he scrambled to pull the both of them closer to the wall and cover Nora the best he could._ _

_ _A third, fourth shot rang out. Each one threatening to stop Ray’s heart, and he tightened his grip on her. The fifth bullet whizzed past them; the sixth chipped away at the cobblestone. But none of them found a way to curl around the dumpster. When the eighth shot proved to be the last, Ray concluded they were out of sight of the shooter. Only then did he risk loosening his grip enough to check on Nora. To his surprise, he saw that she had buried her face into his chest and was still holding onto his jacket, crumpled in one hand. He would have let her stay like that for as long as she wanted, but there was still a sniper looming overhead._ _

_ _“Are you okay?” he asked, gently nudging her head with his chin. _ _

_ _There was a pause before she nodded into his chest. He could feel her breath build up before she used her loose hand to push herself off of him. The pain must have been excruciating, but Ray never would have known it from the effort she made to look him in the eye when she replied. _ _

_ _“Yeah,” she whispered while only betraying the smallest quiver in her voice. Her eyes left his, but it was hard to tell if she had noticed how close their noses were or was just seeing if she had stained his jacket. Either way, her eyes lingered before turning her head and nodding toward his left. “Can you help…?”_ _

_ _Ray’s head bobbed as he rushed to untangle his arms. While her pain was more apparent when she moved, she did not rely solely on his help to get off of him. With her good hand on his shoulder, all he had to do was support her wounded side as she lifted herself out of his lap and into a seated position beside him. _ _

_ _“Гавно,” she cursed under a heavy breath. Her good arm quickly moved to put pressure on her wound which was already soaking her coat. “The damn bullet is still in there.”_ _

_ _“We need to get you to a medical professional,” he told her even though that was obvious. _ _

_ _“We’re not going anywhere with that sniper pinning us down.”_ _

_ _When she dared to try to lean forward to get a look around the dumpster, another shot flew fast her face. Ray pulled her back so quickly they hit the wall with a thud. They sat stunned for a moment, his hands still on her shoulders before she gently pushed his hands off and looked at the handgun that had somehow managed to land next to him._ _

_ _“Do you actually know how to use that thing?” she asked with less mockery than expected of such a question._ _

_ _“I’m not that inept,” he laughed, more out of nerves than anything. Carefully, he picked up the gun and checked it for damage. “Did you see where the shooter is?”_ _

_ _“Fifth floor, third window from the left, red brick building right across from the alley.” Her breath was heavy--he could only imagine how much blood she was losing--but she still looked at him with a confident nod. “You don’t have hit him, you just have to get him to duck away from the window.”_ _

_ _“Are you going to be able to run?”_ _

_ _“I’ll be fine,” she scoffed, already pulling herself into a crouch. “Now go!”_ _

_ _Shooting before he aimed, Ray leapt up and began to unload his magazine at the window. A figure with a rifle disappeared behind the brick but Ray didn’t stop shooting. When he knew she had managed to stagger up behind him, they ran down the alley together. The sniper tried to move from his position a couple of times, but Ray wasn’t going to let up until they were out of the alley. His last bullet was spent just as she pulled him into an open doorway._ _

_ _He practically crashed into her as they fell into what looked to be a wine cellar. They landed again on top of each other, but this time, it was Ray who was scrabbling off of her as she let out a wounded cry._ _

_ _“Sorry!” he gasped, startled by the idea of having hurt her._ _

_ _“It's fine,” she insisted, even though she did so through a pained wince._ _

_ _One of her hands went up on instinct to protect her shoulder, and Ray couldn’t help but notice that whole side of her body was red. When she tried to sit up, his hands reached out immediately. She may not have needed it, but he knew overexerting herself would only make her injury worse. So, carefully, he took her free hand in his and placed his other on the small of her back. At first, her grip on his hand was loose, but it tightened greatly when she began to sit up. A wounded noise escaped her gritted teeth as she let him guide her up. Again, Ray couldn’t believe she was able to move at all._ _

_ _“Can I look at it?” he asked, trying not to think of how wet it was._ _

_ _At first, she eyed him, looking from him to her shoulder a couple of times. Her breath caught at the suggestion, and he was sure she was weighing the pros and cons of exposing her wound to the cold, open air. But still, she let go of his hand with a squeeze and gave him a small nod. Understanding the cue, he carefully slid her coat off her shoulders. He went slow, pausing when she showed any sign of distress, but it fell off easily once the now-angry wound was exposed._ _

_ _Leaning closer, Ray could see exactly where the bullet had entered her shoulder. Thankfully, that meant there were no organs to worry about, but blood loss was definitely an issue. Not seeing what else they could do, for now, he shook out her soiled coat and ripped the good sleeve off. Recalling his brief field training, Ray wrapped it around her shoulder and made sure to keep it tight. She stayed silent as he worked, holding her grit long enough for him to tie off the sleeve. It wasn’t going to be a long term solution, but it would keep her skin from losing any more color._ _

_ _“Do you have someone to go to nearby?” he asked, knowing a hospital wasn’t an option._ _

_ _When he pulled off his jacket, she looked at him stunned, but still let him drape it over her shoulders. “Aren’t you going to try to take me to your agency?”_ _

_ _He paused. It didn’t even occur to him that that was probably what he should do. A good spy would take the opportunity to knock her out and bring her back to the safe house. He could even make sure she got help. He knew that Sara would know what to do about her wound, and there was even a selfish part of him that wanted to be there to make sure she was okay. But even just thinking about holding her captive it put a bad taste in his mouth, and he shook his head._ _

_ _“They’d only blame you for Sirbu’s murder. I don’t want you in prison for something you didn’t do.”_ _

_ _Their eyes meet at that. Hers were wide and full of surprise, disbelief and possibly wonder. There was something about the way she looked at him that captivated him. Even if they had been reminded they were on opposite sides of a conflict, Ray knew he would never again see her as an enemy. He wanted her to be safe even if he’d get in trouble for it later. It wasn’t logical, he didn’t even really know why, but he knew that he cared about her. And that was why he had to let her go._ _

_ _And so he helped her stand and made sure she'd be able to walk on her own. When she paused him at the door, he let her. Her hand found his cheek, and he let her guide his face down. It seemed like a dream, but she gifted him with a small smile and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. The feeling of her lips lingered as he watched her walk out a back door and disappear into the cold evening air._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooo friends I am so sorry XD This is one of the earliest chapters I wrote and I hope it came out as well as I think it did! I've worked so hard on this story and I'm so happy all of you have taken the time to read it. I'm also INCREDIBLY thankful for @Lady-baconator who knows exactly where to put commas and helps me figure out what other word works besides "Suddenly" ^.^ Only one more chapter left!


	6. The Lady Appears

The final time they ran into each other, she was the one to approach him. Ray was sitting outside a café in Brussels, casually eating his cliché breakfast of Belgian waffles and watching the commuting crowd around him. There was only a short decorative fence between him and them, but it allowed him to feel a part of their busy lives despite being mentally a thousand miles away. He couldn’t get himself to focus on anything but the sun that hadn’t yet peaked out from behind the buildings and the small breeze that pushed through his wool sweater. From what he could tell, the day was going to be absolutely beautiful; he just wished he’d been able to witness it under better circumstances.

After the disaster that was the Sirbu’s extraction, the higher-ups decided his skills would best be used elsewhere. It came as a bit of a shock and was frankly pretty disheartening for Ray to hear. To her credit, Sara had protested adamantly on his behalf, but in the end, even she couldn’t argue with the fact that she would get more work done with a more reliable partner. Perhaps one who had less of a habit running into a now-infamous Soviet femme fatale. Ultimately, Sara had been forced to pack him off back west so he could catch a ferry to London where he could finally board a flight back to America. Simple enough. At least they thought he was capable of getting himself home.

So when he glimpsed Nora standing across the street in the middle of his reverie, it was fair to say he was a little surprised. If he’d been thinking more like a spy, he may have considered how exposed his position was or how he was utterly unprepared to defend himself if she tried anything. But it appeared his mind was completely incapable of thinking that way when it came to her anymore. Instead, the only thought that popped into his head was how relieved he was to see her. 

She didn’t approach him. Not until they’d been looking at each other for at least five minutes. It gave him time to wonder how long she’d been waiting for him to get out of his head and finally notice her. She blended in with the crowd well, having ditched her fancy dresses and stolen uniforms for a far more casual look of worn jeans and a sweater. The only thing that made her unique from the crowd was his jacket still draped over her shoulders. His heart fluttered when he recognized it, but his more logical side assured him she was only wearing it for the larger size. Just underneath it, Ray recognized the edge of a sling strapped around her neck and held closely to her chest. When she began to walk toward him, the sway of the open jacket revealed the ends of her fingers poking out of the restraint. It was startling to see the result of their last encounter, but Ray was happy to see she found the medical attention she had needed.

It only took a couple of words for the waiter to let her inside the gate and before he knew it, Nora was standing over his table looking like a European goddess. The greens of her eyes sparkled in the morning light and even swallowed in his jacket and sporting an injury, she stood as tall and proud as ever. Ray was so at a loss for words, he couldn’t even consider why it took her just as long to find something to say. 

“Ray,” she eventually said, adding an oddly formal nod down to him. 

“Nora,” he echoed, still reeling from her sudden appearance. “How is your arm?”

“Fine,” she replied a little too quickly. She grimaced at her own sharpness and tried to recover, adding, “I won’t have to lose it if I can keep from moving it for a while.”

He knew she meant it as a joke, but Ray still felt his heart tighten. He’d been worrying about her since the moment she disappeared back into the city, and he knew there was a possibility it would get infected from fumbling around behind a dumpster. Cleaning it couldn’t have been pretty. It took a lot of effort for him not to think the worst. His face must have paled or something, because she immediately abandoned the topic.

“Can I sit with you?”

Before she could even finish her sentence, his head was bobbing too quickly. “Of course.”

An exhale escaped her as she nodded. He would have wondered why she’d been holding her breath if she hadn’t immediately turned her attention to the metal chair opposite of him. Only then did it dawn on him that having use of only one arm may empare her abilities. She must have anticipated his alarm because before he could leap up to her aid, her hand shot out and grabbed the back of the chair with a strong grip. With no hesitation she flung the chair back with a determined huff and plopped down. Her point was weakened a bit when she then had to begrudgingly scoot herself back to the table inch by inch, but Ray got the message.

“Would you like a waffle?” he asked, only kind of half-kidding.

She looked down at his half-finished breakfast, shaking her head bemused. “It’s a little cliché don’t you think?”

He smiled. “Yeah… I think I like my mom’s more.” 

For a moment, she smiled. It was really only a twitch of her lip, but even so, it seemed to affect her entire posture. First, her stiff shoulders began to droop and then her straight back slumped away from her chair’s metal back. It was hardly enough to say she was relaxed, but it was the first time Ray ever thought she looked… tired. 

While they sat in another uncertain silence, Ray’s attention was pulled back toward the moving crowd around them. He spotted a small group of tourists leaning back to look up at buildings, watched as a couple of children ran past with backpacks. They were surrounded by all of the most interesting people any city could offer. But when Ray looked back at Nora, she didn’t seem to be looking at any of them. She wasn’t even looking at him. If Ray had to guess, he would say that she was watching something far away and was trying to find a way to tell him about it.

“Ray….”

Her voice stopped again. It was so small, Ray wasn’t sure if he heard it or simply saw her use it. Whatever was caught between her mind and her tongue was choking her and sapping all confidence from her demeanor. It was kind of frightening. Ray couldn’t imagine what could affect her so and he could already feel it reach out and try to claw at the back of his mind even before she’d build up enough pressure to spit it out.

“You’re in danger.”

It hit him like a cold ice bath. He could feel his muscles freeze as it flowed over him and seeped into his head. Once it was there, Ray found that it did not make sense. He knew that the words had meaning--otherwise they wouldn’t have affected him so--but he had no ability to process exactly what that meaning was. Which may have been why, instead of remaining in the cold grip of dread, he found himself snorting.

“What?” she gaped, staring at him like he had gone completely mad. 

“I think I’m always in danger,” he told her, a shaky smile holding up his lips. “I’m sorry, it just my company is currently pulling me out to get away from the danger.”

“I know,” she snapped, her tone slapping the smile off his face.It wasn’t the initial sharpness that got through to him, but the chilling worry that replaced it. “My company knows you are Ray Palmer.”

Upon this second hit, Ray’s vision tipped. The setting around them began to morph as the street began to sneak upward and the buildings bent backward. He could understand how this information had choked her before as it began to coagulate in the back of his own throat. It was hard to vocalize that you understood there was a target on your back. But, somehow Ray found it wasn’t the most pressing question he needed to ask. 

“Didn’t they already?”

She seemed surprised. It could have been due to the whirlpool of thoughts sloshing through his head, but he thought he heard a hint of hesitancy in her voice when she replied.

“No,” she told him slowly, “I found out on my own, using back channels and personal contacts.”

Ray nodded. He found the world straightened when he was focused on her. 

“And you didn’t tell them?”

With that came another pause. He knew this could have easily come off as him implying she had done something, but the way she avoided his gaze suggested she knew he wasn’t. He was just genuinely… surprised. She had originally shot his name at him like a weapon, and to realize she hadn’t gone through with her threat was… amazing. 

“At first, I didn’t want to expose my contact,” she explained, sounding a little flustered. “But then, they started keeping me in the dark about things surrounding my missions and making decisions that I knew were not in the best interest of our country.”

“Okay,” he said, remembering what she had told him in the alley, “Like when they killed Sirbu....” 

“Exactly,” she paused, her breath catching remembering the same moment, “They wanted me to kill him to keep him out of enemy hands, but I wouldn’t do it.”

Ray nodded gravely. He was proud of her for taking such a brave stance, but he understood the severity of refusing a direct order. That’s why she had been in the crowd... and why she had run from him. But if the shooter in the window had killed Sirbu, that meant….

“Wait,” he exclaimed, “Your own company tried to kill you!?”

Nora’s eyes lingered out to watch the crowd as she picked her reply carefully. “There is no room for questioning agents in the company.”

The air grew heavy on Ray’s chest. Even though he knew Sara hadn’t been in the window, he hadn’t really thought it could have been one of hers. If it had, Ray would have assumed he had been the real target and Nora was struck on accident. He didn’t know why knowing all of this was worse, but it definitely sparked something in Ray.

“I’m sorry.”

Her gaze snapped back to him as she met his sympathy with a sad smile. “I saw all the signs. I’m just sorry now you’re caught in the middle of all this.”

“I mean, it wasn’t like I accidently put myself right next to you,” he offered, earning himself a bashful chuckle, “But if you’re essentially rogue now, how did you find out they knew about me?”

“Not all my sources cut me off,” she assured him, “He stitched me up and told me that they think they can use you to decode Kravet’s notes.”

It took Ray a moment to remember the name belonged to the salty scientist from the party. “His notes?”

“Yeah, the folder I took from you at the cocktail party,” she explained as if that should be obvious. “They were encrypted and the key was in his family chest your partner stole from the auction.”

“She left that thing in the alley,” he assured even though that was absolutely not the point. “But I didn’t even know that was what was in the box or really even what Kravet’s research was about. Why do they think I can decode the notes for them?”

“They think, because of your history and your interactions with Kravets along with your technical experience, that if you can’t read his work than you can at least duplicate it.”

“But why would I ever do that for them?”

At that, she paused. He watched her shift in her chair and tug on her- his jacket as she held her sling closer. 

“I’m not certain,” she began, eyes looking down at the table. “But whenever someone needs to be… persuaded, it is not unheard of for them to find… leverage.”

She didn’t have to finish her thought. Ray’s stomach was already churning just thinking about it. It was horrifying to think that they’d turn on her. But from what she had told him, he was sure they had never respected her in the first place. Though, if she knew that even she was in danger, she’d taken a big risk coming to warn him. She could have just run away and disappear to some far away land never to be seen from or threatened again. But she instead she found him.

“I’m sorry I put you in this situation,” he told her, a genuine pang of guilt breaking his voice.

Her head snapped up at him. 

“I’m the one that should be sorry,” she gapped, “I put a target on your back and now my ex-colleagues are hunting us down to throw us in a gulag.”

“That’s not your fault,” he told her incredulous, “You chose not to kill someone, and I decided to become one of the smartest people in the world. I’d say our imprisonment would be pretty unfair.”

She smiled, but didn’t actually seem amused. He could only imagine what horrors she knew would have awaited him if she hadn’t warned him. She may have seen it as her putting him in the crossfire, but Ray understood that it was really him putting her in danger. He would have thanked her if she hadn’t just immediately trapped him in her gaze.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she promised, eye deadly serious, “Especially when you’ve been given the opportunity to get out of the life.”

Ray’s head tilted to one side, honestly shocked that she didn’t already know why he was going home. “You think I’m getting out?”

When her eyebrows curved down confused, Ray couldn’t help bursting out laughing, “Nora, they’ve kicked me out.”

“What?” she gasped, sounding sincerely confused.

“Yeah!” he exclaimed, hands flying up, “They called up me and my partner and told us I had to come back to the States immediately because I had become too much of a ‘liability’.”

“Well, you do keep running into me, and you’re not that great of a shot,” she sighed before continuing, “But you have other qualities that I’m sure make you a valuable partner.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re smart, good with people,” she listed, “And you’re actually pretty good in a fistfight.”

“I was working on pure instinct,” he laughed. It was funny to think that she probably could have spoken to his ability in the field better than his partner, but he didn’t think the US government would take a recommendation from an enemy agent.

“So what will you do next?” she asked.

“Well, I’m still dead,” he sighed, “As a secret of the state, they’ll just put me back in my lab, probably bunk me up with Kravets and let me out for some sun every other Saturday. Don’t get me wrong, I love my work, but it’s just… I like being alive too.”

His words hung heavy. Up until this point, he’d tried to stay optimistic about going home, but now with Nora, he just couldn’t help but be sad about it. Spy work, no matter how crazy or unorthodox, gave him something he hadn’t had in a very long time. Freedom to be out, to interact with people, and see the world. The idea of that being torn away just seemed unfair.

Nora let him stay in his thoughts for a while. She was watching him closely, maybe waiting for him to come out of it on his own. Ray could imagine how jarring it was to see him, Mr. Sunshine Boy Scout being down about anything. It wasn’t a part of him he liked anyone to see. But if he had to be honest, he was dreading going home more than running from Russians.

“What if you didn’t go home?”

She was getting really good at evoking a reaction from him. The logical part of him knew what she had asked him was ridiculous and that the States were the safest place for him to be. But the rest of him was already filled with enough energy to grab her hand and run with her right then. “Is that even an option?”

“It can be,” she shrugged, as confident in her abilities as ever. “I have enough resources to get us anywhere you’d like to go.”

“What about the Soviets?” he countered.

“I promised I’d keep you safe,” she assured.

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

It was a tantalizing offer. Incredibly tempting. His veins were practically buzzing. Him and Nora, running across the continent, escaping both communist and capitalist. The definition of rogue agents fighting off danger and entrapment together. It was almost romantic. Who was he kidding? It was extremely romantic.

“You know how it sounds, don’t you, Nora?” he teased.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You’re asking me to run away with you,” he grinned.

“Well,” she blushed, but sat straighter still, “What if I am?”

A sweat broke out across his forehead. Her challenge suggested a boldness Ray could never match. Their skill levels still had such a vast difference in them that he knew she’d be able to hide ten times better without him. He’d probably screw something up in the first week and nearly get her killed again. They could never be safe running, they’d never be able to get comfortable anywhere. She had to know that. But then again, maybe she just didn’t care. And the more he thought about it, the more he didn’t care either.

“If we do this, and I’m not saying we should,” he began even though his mind was already made up, “I just have one question.”

She paused, looked at him skeptically, before nodding. “Okay.”

He gulped, the question sitting behind his throat as a stone. It had been weighing on his mind for a while, but he’d been struggling to decide if he wanted to know the answer. But now he had to know. So he just blurted it out.

“Is Nora your real name?”

The moment beat by slowly, but in the end, she smiled. 

“Yes. My name is Nora Darhk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, friends thank you so much for taking this journey! I've been working on this thing since May and I'm so happy you've enjoyed it so ^.^ and (because I love you all so much) I'm going to extend this one more week with an epilogue! Nothing crazy, just a nice little add on to tie up the mushy romance stuff XD I won't have stewed over it for months like the other chapters but with the help of my Beta goddess (Love you @Lady-Baconator SO MUCH) I'm sure it'll be a good way to end this <3 Love love love you all so much and see you one more time next week!


	7. Epilogue: People Like Us

Ray could have sworn the train was getting more rickety by the second. The over-crowded car had sounded questionable from the moment they climbed aboard, but now as they approached the end of their trip, he was certain it had reached its limits. It listed severely whenever there was a turn of the rails and lurched with every change in speed, sending the ‘standing room only’ occupants stumbling at least once every ten minutes or so. The handrail above his head was the closest thing he could find to stability and even it vibrated in various visceral hums. Through his death grip, it acted like a telegram and provided him with constant updates on the train’s deteriorating state. It was as if he could see the loose bolts in the floorboards trying to shake free and send the packed passengers straight to the rails. He knew his nerves were getting to him. He should have known by now that it was far from uncommon for public transportation to be a little disheveled--questionable even--but, still... this had to be excessive.

“Hey,” a gentle voice managed to break through, “You still there?”

Shaking away the image of fiery derailment, Ray looked down to see Nora staring up at him with those wide eyes again. Next to him, she stood tall and stable despite the ever jostling of their transportation and spacy disposition of her support system. With the limited space around them, she’d opted to travel tucked under his arm and rely on his hold on the bar to keep them both from launching into the group of colorfully dressed women in front of them. They had been standing for hours at that point, but she hardly seemed bothered. Her only worry, as always, was him and the racing of his heart that she could no doubt feel. 

“Yeah,” he fibbed, putting on his trademarked Palmer smile more to convince himself than her, “Sorry, just spaced out a bit” 

The arches of her eyebrows tipped down, but she still nodded. Even with her ever calm exterior, Ray knew she was a thousand times more anxious than he was. She was just better at compartmentalization and made an effort to maintain her composure for his sake. He felt the need to apologize, suddenly feeling embarrassed by his rampant anxiety. But when he was about to do so, she turned away and took the opportunity to do another visual sweep of the car, even though there was absolutely no room for their surroundings to change.

“We’re almost there,” she told him after her gaze settled outside of the window. 

Ray had to duck to see what she had meant. Over the fields of crops and now-frequent spottings of homes, he could see the growing form of Calcutta’s skyline. It was India’s biggest city. Five million people in an eighty square mile space. Incredibly dense, especially by European standards. He still hadn’t decided if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“Should be another adventure,” he laughed, his nerves sneaking in again. 

Though she kept her gaze straight out of the window as she smiled at him, he knew she was watching him from the corner of her eye. He could feel her studying him, reading him like the open book he was. Again, he felt a wave of guilt for being unable to keep his nerves in check. 

“Hey,” she said again, bumping into his side until he looked her in the eye, “How are you doing?”

Aw… her favorite question. There were a million ways to answer her. Sincerely, humorously, charmingly.... He could play it off as the doof he was just to try to get her to stop looking at him like that. But, Ray found himself trapped. Her eyes were partially hidden behind a loose lock of hair and a headscarf--one of the dozens he’d gotten for her as an essential ‘run away together’ gift--but they cut through to him with a soft intensity. Their greens sparkled in the Asian sun and, to his surprise, betrayed her own inner turmoil. She’d made her worries clear before, but it still took him aback to see it on her face again. So, instead of answering, his arm pulled her closer in a tight hug that she was quick to reciprocate. 

“It's obviously a trap,” she had screamed at him only a few days before. She’d been going off for a while at that point, but their argument seemed to come to a head as she stalked away with the subject of their argument waving erratically in the dim light. 

“It might not be,” he protested, following close behind her. He was overwhelmed with a growing desperation to calm her down, yet all he could think to do was use his height advantage to snatch the piece of paper from her hand. However, she was already twenty steps ahead of him and had somehow switched it to the other hand before he could even see her do it. 

“She’s a spy, Ray,” she snapped, whipping around to stop him in his tracks. Her eyes were blown out wide, the dim light glaring off of them enraged. Not to mention her hands--now suddenly empty-- flew up and flashed around his face to make him flinch back with every word. “She works for an agency that wouldn’t bat an eye before sniping you from three miles away and dragging you bloody and broken back to your lab never to be seen again.”

“I know that,” he stammered, relinquishing a few steps to escape her onslaught. 

“Oh, do you?” she spat, using his retreat as an opportunity to chase him back even further. She had him back-peddling so fast he couldn’t even stop when his legs hit the foot of their bed. His momentum sent him toppling onto the mattress and forced him to face her wrath at eye level. “Then why would you hide this from me? Why would you still have this? Какого черта, Ray! Why would you ever consider doing anything with this except throw it into the fire!?” 

With that, she threw the piece of paper in his face and stormed back to the fireplace. It hit him gently in the chest before fluttering down and landing face up on his lap. Unable to look at her in the heavy silence, his eyes dropped down to read its printed ink glinting in the firelight. It spelled out, ‘General Class: 10:00am to Calcutta’. No matter how many times he read it, it struck Ray with a special type of fear and pause that weighed heavy on his lap. 

He knew Nora was right. They’d been in danger from the moment they left that breakfast table in Belgium and it was a wonder they’d made it this long. Two ex-spies with two world powers after them was an explosive combination that had already resulted in a couple of close calls. The scar on Nora’s shoulder alone should have been enough of a reminder to trust no one and to never take a risk. The very sight of the ticket should have sent him flying out of the country with Nora strapped to his back to make sure she’d keep up. They could have been anywhere by now. Indonesia. China. There were so many places they could have disappeared into. A multitude of foreign landscapes to have settled down in where no one could find them for at least another month or so. 

But still… Ray had kept the ticket. 

Through the darkness of the room, Ray looked up at Nora. She was facing the fireplace, mostly a shadow with a fiery outline. One end of her thin scarf had fallen off her shoulder in all of the chaos and hung down her back to sway with her breath. The rest of her didn't move a muscle. Her eyes were glued to the fire, probably wondering why she’d ever bothered with him in the first place. 

He knew he should have shown her the ticket the moment he found it. It sat like a rock in his pocket for days before he built up the nerve. But even then, she hadn’t gotten angry until he’d stopped her from packing up their life again. He couldn’t blame her for lashing out at him. She’d done so much for him. Give up her home, her country. Risked life and death to keep him safe. Hell, she took a bullet for him even before they’d decided to run. Of course, she couldn’t understand why he’d jeopardize everything for a piece of paper. He didn’t even understand why he thought they wouldn’t be shot on sight. But he did. And he owed her everything, including making an effort to put that into words. 

“It’s not that I trust her company,” he began, fingertips gripping the edges of the ticket carefully. “I just... I trust _her_.”

The sound of crickets outside their window rang loud between them as his words dropped off. Nora didn’t look at him. The only reason he knew she heard him was her loose scarf swayed, betraying a shift in her weight. Her silence could have meant anything, but he decided to take it as an opportunity to elaborate. So he stood up. 

“Sara was the only partner that ever trusted me,” he continued, holding his position by their bed for a moment before carefully beginning his approach, “She put me on missions, she kept me informed, and she believed in my abilities. Even if they weren’t as great as she really needed.”

It may have been a trick of the light, but he thought he saw her shoulders bounce.

“I know she probably is here to get me back,” he sighed, stopping to stand behind her. “But I think we should hear what she has to say first.”

The light of the flames danced around them while he waited for her to speak. Looking down, Ray could see it reflecting brilliantly in her eyes as she considered their options. He knew her mind was running through all the thousands of different ways this could all go wrong. He himself recognized a couple dozen, but he hoped she could see there were at least a few good possible outcomes. 

“How do you know she wants to talk to me?” she asked, carefully deadpanned. “I must have caused her a few headaches by now.”

Ray huffed, burying the ticket in his pocket as he leaned closer. “Probably, but I know she’s a particular believer in second chances.”

She sighed. One of her crossed arms reached back to adjust her scarf and bring it back up to her shoulders. The movement relaxed her posture, but he knew that it didn’t mean she was giving up. 

“You know that could not be from her,” she said, gracing him with a quick look back, “Anyone could have dropped that ticket in your bag.”

“Not with you right next to me,” he rebutted, feeling so bold as to reach his arms out to wrap around her shoulders, “Only she would have the skill to get past your magical spy barrier.” 

She laughed as he pulled her against his chest and swayed them both back and forth. Her hands gripped around his forearms as she accepted his embrace and melted into his touch. He could see her smile glimmer, and he held onto it as he buried his face in her neck. They enjoyed their restored contact for just a moment, before their thoughts tore them apart again.

“She’ll come with an offer,” Nora sighed into him as she rested her head against his shoulder. 

He hummed knowingly. His voice came out muffled when he replied, “She’ll probably try tugging on my patriotism first.”

Her laugh reverberated in his chest. “Remind you of your duty to your country?”

“No,” he grinned, lifting up his head so he could whisper into her ear, “she’ll probably just scold me for getting in bed with a commie.” 

They laughed together. He took the opportunity to kiss the side of her head and rest resting his chin back on her shoulder before falling into a more comfortable silence. No, Ray knew Sara would start by appealing to his good nature. Remind him of all the lives his gadgets have saved, how he was wasting good agent’s time as they tried to chase him down. If that didn’t work, maybe then she’d throw in a bribe of extra sunlight if he came in willingly; maybe something even bigger if he threw Nora under the bus. The thought alone put a bad taste in his mouth. Whatever Sara suggested, he would not let any harm come to Nora. He’d sooner fight his way out of a meeting with America’s most deadly spy than be separated from her. 

“Ray?” she said suddenly, her voice strangely quiet, “Are you tired of running?”

Ray paused their swaying. He’d thought about it before, but he didn’t know if he necessarily felt… tired. They’d been surrounded by so much danger for so long it kind of became their new normal. It was a little tiring to finally get comfortable in one location and then suddenly being chased off to another one. His neck was definitely getting tired of having to look over his shoulder wherever they went. But Ray still didn’t feel bothered by it all. It was just the way things were now, but thinking that also made him kind of sad so... maybe? 

“I guess,” he drew, straightening up so he could tuck her under his chin, “It’d be nice to know we’d always be sleeping on a comfortable bed every night.” 

She nodded against him, hiding her smile behind his forearm and squeezing it tighter. He didn’t know what she was getting at, but for some reason, he didn’t like it. It evoked bad thoughts, and he began to sway again just to shake them out. 

“But I’d never stop running if it meant staying with you.”

He felt her stiffen. Her breath stopped blowing on his arm, and he was worried he’d said something wrong. But evidently he didn’t. Because, just when he thought she was going to pull away from him, she turned in his arms, stretching up onto her tiptoes. Her hands were around his neck before he could even blink and suddenly she had pulled him down for a kiss. It didn’t matter how many times she’d done it or why she’d done it in the first place, Ray always melted with the feeling of her lips on his. It was like pure joy. It pushed away any wonder or worry from his head and left only the feeling of her. Which may have been why she did it, because he immediately forgot about her weird response and could only stare at her goofily when she finally pulled away. 

“Well, I can’t let you do something stupid alone then,” she sighed, grabbing his hand before leaning against his chest. 

“Yeah…” he giggled, head still spinning, “I shouldn’t go anywhere without my knight in shining armor.” 

She laughed harder and looked up at him. “But I’m still not trusting your friend.” 

“I wouldn’t expect you too,” he smirked before kissing her forehead and adding. “You can just trust me.” 

With one final, shuddering jolt of the train, Ray was thrown out of his memories. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one surprised at the forceful arrival of the train as everyone in the car nearly lost their footing and was sent flying forward. Thankfully, Ray had broken out of his reverie just soon enough to hold onto Nora and the handrail above them in time. Therefore instead of being launched to the front of the car, they merely dangled from the bar--his shoulder protesting at the sudden strain--before ricocheting back to their original position, her expert balance really helping stick the landing. 

The man behind them, however, was not so skilled. The short Bengali man flew right into Nora’s back and immediately exploded into apologies. She accepted them graciously in flawless Bengali, but he still shuffled off sheepishly before the doors were even open. 

“I think I understood everything he said,” Ray said proudly, having to switch languages only a couple of weeks ago. 

“I’m very proud,” she rolled her eyes, motioning for him to pull down their bags from the overhead shelf. “Now we’re back on.”

They waited to exit the train until exactly half of the car had cleared out. Exiting general class was unfortunately no less hectic than trying to board it. A pressure of people trying to spill out onto an already busy train platform bottle-necked the exit, preventing Nora’s preferred quick getaway. So they used the natural chaos to blend in with all the other travelers and slip off of the train and into the city proper. 

The city of Calcutta’s streets were packed to the brim. Traffic lanes were bustling with cars and rickshaws, both seemingly upset by the weight of the traffic and clearly being a part of it. The sidewalks proved to be their own form of havoc, with people trying to get where they needed to go and others trying to stop them to sell something. Nora’s lock on his hand kept Ray from ever drifting too far away from her, but he did have to be pulled back to the left side of the sidewalk one too many times. She had promised to always protect him and that was never more evident than when they were walking in crowds. Ray must have been dragged through every city in Asia, but he had to admit he always felt safest with her holding his hand. He still liked to think he’d gotten better in crowds; he made sure to keep his eyes open and not get distracted by every suspicious thing he saw. But her ability to multitask was something he could never even dream to match. She was able to juggle watching the crowd, mapping out an erratic path into the city, and dragging his butt behind her. 

Eventually, she led them down a small, moderately less crowded road that appeared to be more of a quasi-indoor market. Stalls were stuffed with items hanging from ceiling to floor, assaulting Ray with more color -- but thankfully less movement. So while he may have needed a couple of tugs to keep him moving past a newsstand, overall he felt like he was regaining his composure. 

“Interested in a new pair of shoes?” Nora teased, though her tone suspiciously lacked humor. 

“I saw a blue pair you might look nice in,” he rebutted, making sure to walking closer to her. 

“You know we’re being followed right?”

Having finally learned something about being on the run, Ray resisted the urge to look behind him. How in the world anyone was able to keep up with them first in the crowded street and then in an obscured shopping area seemed impossible. But if they were with Sara, then he shouldn’t be surprised. Pretending to notice something interesting in one of the stalls, he used a mirror on the wall to see if he could spot who Nora was talking about. To his surprise, he actually did. 

“Tall, white woman in black sunglasses?” he asked, already following her away from the stall.

“I saw her sitting in one of the reserved seating cars when we were boarding,” she explained, while also looking for their next turn in the labyrinth of shops. 

“Guess they couldn’t afford to upgrade us too,” he jested, his heart already racing. 

“I told you she wouldn’t be alone,” Nora grumble, pulling him down a split between two of the stalls. 

“She’s probably Sara’s new partner,” he defended even though he had no reason to trust this woman either. 

“I don’t like it,” she complained, already squeezing his hand and picking up their pace. They rushed down the tight space for a couple more steps before they broke out into another alley of venders. “They could have a whole team already surrounding us. We need to get somewhere secure.”

Ray was about to say something to try to calm her down when he felt a small tug on his jacket. He looked down to see a small child had caught up with them and was now jogging to keep. Nora noticed him immediately and almost flashed a hand out at him to getaway. But Ray squeezed her hand. She looked at him like he had gone mad but relented when he slowed their pace to a stop. 

Turning toward the kid, he dug his hand into his pocket and felt around. It took him a moment with Nora breathing down his neck to hurry up, but eventually, he pulled out all the rupees he could find. With a friendly smile, he placed them in the kid’s outreached hand who took it with a wide grin. He thanked him in broken English, and Ray was just about to reply when the child pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. Nora tensed against him. He heard her stop breathing as he just stared at it, debating what to do. But eventually--with a sigh and a racing heart--he took it. He thanked the kid in his own broken Bengali, before he ran back into the crowd, in the direction they had just left their tail.

“What does it say?” Nora asked, already pulling for them to start walking again. 

But before he could open it, he hesitated. As he stared at its dirt-smudged exterior, he was hit with a cold realization. He had no idea what they were doing. He had absolutely no idea what Sara was going to do. He didn’t know that she wanted to talk to him or that she wouldn’t shoot him on site. He didn’t even know if she was in the country. The lady following them could be just some other agent sent to get them. Heck, she could even be a Soviet agent. He could have just lead them into the stupidest trap in the world for nothing but a thin slice of hope. He may have been nervous before, but looking at that paper, Ray was terrified. They could be dead in an hour. He could be pulled apart from Nora within the next five minutes, never to see her again. This could be it. 

So, instead of opening the folded piece of paper, he turned to Nora. She was already looking at him, her own fearful look in her eye. Her own realization may have been running through her head, maybe even deciding if she was going to have to fight them out of that shopping center. But he took the moment just to look at her, memorize every inch of her face, and pray no matter what happened she’d be okay. With that thought, he forgot the paper and squeezed her hand. 

“I love you,” he told her like it really was the last thing he was ever going to say. 

Her head tilted, maybe taken aback by his words, but still, she smiled back at him. 

“I love you too.”

Thinking there was nothing else to do, he leaned down to kiss her one last time. She accepted him quickly, deepening the kiss with a hand on his shoulder. He could have melted right there in the middle of the crowd, but instead, he pulled away and leaned his forehead against her forehead. 

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice dripping with desperation. 

“I do,” she told him, squeezing his shoulder. 

Ray nodded, before standing up straight. If he was an idiot and they were going to die within the next hour, than he was going out doing what he did best. So, with a deep breath and with Nora’s hand in his, he turned around and immediately spotted the blonde woman peeking out from behind a stall. With the last of his nerve, he led them through the crowd and directly in front of her. She looked just about as shocked as could be, but he still put on a smile and extended his free hand. 

“Hi, I’m Ray, and this is Nora.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING!!! This has been one of my favorite things to write and I have to admit I'm really proud of how it came out. It's been so much fun to share it with all of you and I can never thank you enough ^.^. Of course, I also have to give a HUGE thank you to @Lady-baconator for helping me edit the crap out of every single chapter. She's so amazing guys, she has the God-given ability to find the word you need even when you have no idea you need it, and I guarantee this fic would be completely illegible without her. You can also give her some love if you've appreciated the weekly updates <3. As for moving forward... I do have to take a break. This thing was six months of love and now I have to focus on school applications again. I have a couple of ideas of maybe a second fic but I wouldn't expect anything any time soon. But I really hope you've liked what I've done and for the third time, I have to say THANK YOU AND BLESS YOU ALL!!!   
Love <3 May


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